


The More Things Change

by scatteredlogic



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-10
Updated: 2005-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteredlogic/pseuds/scatteredlogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love isn't only for the young.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The More Things Change

When Pomona Sprout had received Mr. Ollivander's letter, she'd been intrigued. Producing stronger wand wood by cultivating a selection of trees cared for in a magical environment by magical children was a very interesting idea.

Over the next few weeks, he travelled often to Hogwarts to discuss the details of the project with her, and they talked about which types of trees should be planted, how many wands could be reliably produced from a single tree (not nearly as many as she had assumed,) and whether staking the trees would be beneficial or harmful to their ultimate goal. Finally, a plan was developed. He selected the trees that he thought would fare best, and the planting began.

There were times when Mr. Ollivander looked at her with a peculiar glean in his eyes and Pomona wondered if perhaps he was interested in more than a business relationship, but she always quickly chided herself. She was being fanciful, nothing more. She was an old woman. No point in having those hopes any longer.

One evening, as they walked through Greenhouse Three, examining the tiny seedlings in their little pots, they encountered one of Pomona's Hufflepuffs. Owen Cauldwell was pacing furiously and muttering to himself.

Pomona and Ollivander exchanged glances before Ollivander diplomatically retreated a few steps to allow Pomona to speak to the boy in relative privacy.

"Mr. Cauldwell," Pomona said, "is something wrong?"

Startled, the boy turned and flushed at being discovered. "No, ma'am. Noth— Nothing's wrong," he stammered.

"Are you quite certain? You appear to be somewhat agitated."

"Well... It's... It's just that I want Eleanor Branstone to sit with me at dinner and I don't know how to ask her," Cauldwell blurted out. "Ernie MacMillan said that I shouldn't ask her at all, to just sit next to her and that would be that, but I really think that I should say something to her. Don't you?" The look on Cauldwell's face was a blend of hope and desperation.

"Yes, I agree that you should ask her," Pomona answered gravely. "It would be the polite thing to do."

"But what should I say? Every time that I even think about asking her, I get nervous and my hands go all sweaty." The boy held up his palms, as if to demonstrate.

Pomona suppressed a smile. "In my experience, Mr. Cauldwell, young ladies appreciate a gentleman who treats them with respect. I suggest saying, "Would you do me the honour of attending dinner with me tonight? That demonstrates both your respect and good manners."

Cauldwell cast her a doubtful look. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, yes. I was young once, as difficult as that may be to believe. I'm certain that she'll answer that she would be delighted."

"You think?" The boy took a shuddering breath and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll give it a try."

Pomona nodded. "Good luck, Mr. Cauldwell."

When the boy had left, Ollivander returned to Pomona's side and smiled wryly. "I couldn't help but overhear. You should have warned him that it doesn't change, no matter how old you become."

"What doesn't?" she asked, puzzled.

"Sweaty palms," he said, holding up his hands.

She blinked in surprise at the slight sheen of moisture there. Bemused, she looked up into his face.

With a determined expression, he said, "Pomona, would you do me the honour of attending dinner with me tonight?"

Her heart leapt into her throat and she smiled slowly. "I'd be delighted."

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Written forAngharad04, who requested "a nice little romance for Professor Sprout."


End file.
